


Ticktok Ticktok Time is Running Out

by Lacrimosa (humanyubel)



Series: Let's Be Each Other and Meet [4]
Category: Digimon - All Media Types, Digimon Frontier
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Artificial Intelligence, Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Hackers, Armageddon, Artificial Intelligence, Computer Viruses, Crossover, End of the World, F/F, F/M, Gen, Memory Alteration, Multi, Mystic Messenger AU, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Running Away, Season crossover, Suspense, Trans Female Character, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-26 22:57:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10796490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humanyubel/pseuds/Lacrimosa
Summary: To protect our world and the nextto detect and delete all cyber threatsOur hearts must be openbut do not infectRemember:He is watching.(edited 5.7.17)





	1. Online

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alise92](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alise92/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Run child run  
> to where you are wanted

 

Orimoto Izumi never had friends in Japan. She wasn’t interested in holding conversations in things she didn’t like. Though that was to be expected at her age, she was only eleven and had made two major moves in her life.

 

She never wanted to return to Japan, Italy was good. _Great_ even. The streets were familiar and the language left a pleasant tingle at the base of her tongue. A rumble of thunder overhead.

 

But all good things had to come to an end and she was forced to return to her homeland. Hopelessly stuck in Japan. All she ever did was read when she returned. She’d stare out classroom windows and never make any attempts to interact with her peers.

 

They didn’t like her, it wasn’t as if she didn’t hear the hushed voices.

 

Didn't notice the teachers purposefully ignore this behavior. 

 

She endured an entire year of this, isolating herself more and more to avoid what they said.

 

Then when she was twelve, she realized something she had never truly considered before. She was completely alone. It didn’t bother her at first until she found a recipe she wanted to make and realized, no one was there to work together with her.

 

It was only a simple cake, she couldn’t even remember the flavor or what was in it if someone asked her. She made it by herself and left the rest out for her parents. A simple note in pink hand writing.

 

_I hope work isn’t too hard._

 

 _With love, Izumi_ _♡_

 

Her parents had always worked long hours so it didn’t register until the fourth day of sitting out, that her parents hadn’t even made an effort to eat what she had made.

 

She scraped the plate and sat on the counter by the sink, head in her hands while she stared blankly at her fuzzy pink socks.

 

Had she really pushed everyone away? What was she supposed to do if her own parents didn’t even want to be around her? They were busy though, so maybe it wasn’t that. They were just trying to provide for her!

 

She searched her memory for the last time they had eaten together, a week, a month, maybe a year? It had been so long that just thinking about it made her sick.

 

But they loved her, they had to have or else they wouldn’t work long hours. It was no big deal so she didn’t have to worry about it too much. She’d just talk to them next time they were home!

 

It would all be okay.

 

Right?

  
Of course it wasn’t actually all okay. She was alone and didn’t know what to do. So she turned to books, she read until there wasn’t anything in her school’s library left to read. Izumi finished all of the classics, modern works, nonfiction, history. She moved onto STEM subjects and took a liking to computer programming. She had her laptop to get on every once and awhile when the information ran out. Izumi followed the stream of information and wound herself up in an _ocean._  

**_“To be human is to be 'a' human, a specific person with a life history and idiosyncrasy and point of view; artificial intelligence suggest that the line between intelligent machines and people blurs most when a puree is made of that identity.”_ **

 

Her mouse hovered over the words as she read along out loud.

  
Who would have known that would be all it took to fall in?

 

She took the plunge.

 

One day she got an email, she’d never gotten one before. She had only set up the inbox for friends. Friends she didn’t exactly have. It was strange but she wasn’t afraid of the prospect of a complete stranger messaging her.

 

There was no sender address. 

 

_Would you like to make a change?_

 

_A change?_

 

The response was immediate.

 

_Do you accept, Orimoto Izumi?_

 

Her fingers hovered over the keys. She didn’t have her name linked to this account. Izumi wasn’t one to back down from something intimidating though.

 

_Do you lack purpose in life?_

 

 

 

She was only twelve so that was understandable, having no clear direction of your life’s purpose. But Izumi knew what the person meant. “ _Do you feel worthless._ ” That was an easy question to answer.

  
No one would miss her if she were to simply disappear or die. Her parents didn’t talk to her anymore. Her peers didn’t like her… even the librarian would be better off without her. 

_I do._

 

_Then fear not, Orimoto Izumi. You will have a purpose. With us._

 

Her printer turns on by itself, printing out an address. She stands up, chair falling behind her. She has half the mind to turn it off, but allows it.

  
What harm could it do? She had already committed to this.

 

_And you will know all._

 

_Will I ever have to come back, here?_

And then.

_Will they notice?_

 

_Is it wise to ask questions you know the answers to?_

 

Izumi lets out a sigh, taking in her room. It didn’t have much of anything. Her bed, her desk, a closet with five outfits she cycled through wearing. She wasn’t necessarily thrifty, she just didn’t get the opportunity to ask her Mother to go shopping with her often. A pink rug she’s had since she was six stares up at her in all its stained glory. She looks back to the computer.

 

_Run._

 

 

The messages on her computer erase themselves, her email account disabled. The warning. The rest of her computer begins to clear. Photos, documents, website history.

 

It shouldn’t have been possible.

 

She quickly shuts the computer, grabbing a backpack, she shoves a bar of chocolate and her laptop in. She didn't have time to empty out the books she had on hacking and the two about computer programming. Her current clothes would have to do.

 

She shoves her printer off of her desk. She knew it was broken already, any traces of her computer free from it. It cracks her hard wood.

  
Izumi forces on her purple hat and runs out on her old life without so much as a glance behind her.  

 

 

(I just got your messages)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://pixels--galore.tumblr.com/post/107989701037/angel-wings
> 
> short start but ive been waiting months to post this


	2. A (Unsurprisingly) Forgettable Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izumi wasn't big on missions with Miyako.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to update some stuff on mobile in my docs. There's three errors I want to fix. Sorry for the trouble

The ballroom went cold. Women dressed in their finest gowns of silk and other rare commodities didn't notice. Their dates even more oblivious than they were.

 

The room stank of champagne and lipstick stained collars.

 

Izumi hated missions like this the most.

 

The contacts stung her eyes and even though it was the most realistic wig they had, it made her whole upper body itchy.

 

Brown hair and brown eyes. She was almost jealous of the fact Miyako kept her natural colors.

 

Though her purple lipstick, as much as she loved purple, was gaudy.

 

_“You're still young enough. You're completely androgynous.”_

 

 _“But why do I have to be the_ **_younger_ ** _brother? Why not D-2 05?”_

 

_Miyako and Koushiro scoffed._

 

_“He's probably chasing Daisuke’s heel. He's more of an information gathering guy.”_

 

_Miyako let out a laugh._

 

_“He's persistent and Daisuke doesn't notice.” There was a lack of professionalism when they spoke so casually of their coworkers._

 

_“D-1 08?” Izumi offered, she knew Miyako was dating her. They were engaged to marry actually._

 

_Miyako’s oversized lenses seemed to gleam in the semi darkness of the operation meeting room. Her voice was cheery._

 

_“Hikari chan is busy.”_

 

_Izumi felt like they were making fun of her. Though that wasn't necessarily true. They were her coworkers, she should be less stubborn but she was offended._

 

_“What about anyone from DT-3?” She quickly bit her tongue. DT-3 was A.I. research and development. Of course they couldn't do anything._

 

_Miyako and Koushiro seemed to notice her blunder but kindly paid it no mind._

 

_“Don't you want to be my cute little brother for a night, ne, I-zu-mi chan?”_

 

_Izumi’s face flamed. Of course Miyako would bank off of that._

 

_“I'll do it, but I don’t really like it.” it wasn't necessarily pretending to be a boy that bothered her._

 

_Being a younger sibling did._

 

They'd rimmed her eyes so thickly with mascara and dark eyeliner it was ridiculous.

 

Her pink tie nearly strangled her.

 

At fourteen she considered herself an adult. She wasn't a kid. Definitely not a younger sibling.

 

But still she obediently stood at Miyako’s side. It was her job to and at least this was better.

 

The majority of her face was shielded by her curtain of lavender hair. The back portion of her hair was pulled back into an elegant bun.

 

Wisps of hair curled around her. Her off the shoulder pink gown poofed out away from her torso.

 

Izumi’s device was a heavyweight in her pocket. A dark purple I-pod was tucked into her suit jacket.

 

Izumi did her best to give off a moody aura. She listened carefully as Koushiro gave her a layout of the building.

 

“Kou chan, be a dear, could you go out to the car and grab me my purse?” Izumi sprung into action.

 

She willed her cheeks to flush, voice slightly deeper.

 

“Sure, nee chan.”

 

A few members of the large circle that had formed around Miyako cooed at the saccharine act.

 

Her stained pink converse beat off the ground in a furious tempo as soon as she was out of sight.

 

 _“Second_ corridor to your left.” Koushiro’s voice supplied her.

 

She took the turn, picking up speed.

 

_“Now you have approximately four minutes to get there and back before they begin questioning you. Do you think you can do it?”_

 

“You wouldn't have chose me if you didn't think I could handle it.”

 

Izumi slipped into the room Koushiro had told her was the data room, glad the guards were focused outside. Normally it was smart to hide things in plain sight. Their mistake was assuming she wouldn't have the guts to go through with it.

 

She pulled out her pink Digivice. It was one of the newest models, so far she was the only one to not have suffered negative side effects using it.

 

“Let's kick it, Fairimon!”

 

 _“Initiate Partial I.”_ Koushiro spoke. It only took two seconds before Izumi’s consciousness faded, body slumping to the side.

 

_“Link established.”_

 

Her Digivice connected to the largest computer through a small wire. The monitor screen froze before it glitched a pink mess.

 

Izumi felt nothing, saw only information and viruses she easily evaded.

 

The download took little more than thirty seconds to complete. Falsifying information on the original source? Took slightly longer. Nothing that would set her back.

 

She made sure to disable all alarms. An extra “fuck you”.

 

When Izumi finished her job, she gained her senses back all at once. Even now it was disorientating. She needed more time to get used to the demands Fairimon took. Unfortunately she didn't have time. It’d be nice if they stopped updating it and allowed Izumi to get used to it.

 

“Great job, Fairimon let’s go!” She rose to her feet and left the room untouched.

 

She had slightly under two minutes to return to Miyako’s side. She patted around in her suit jacket pockets for Miyako’s delicate looking bag.

 

She returned to her supposed big sister’s hip. Just in time with fifteen seconds to spare.

 

“Sorry it got stuck between the seats…” she stuck her lower lip out, face suddenly insecure. “Do you forgive me, nee chan?”

 

Izumi saw the flash of surprise in Miyako’s eyes before she leaned forward and just so slightly down.

 

“How could I not forgive my darling baby brother. You're such a good boy, Kou chan.” Izumi’s cheeks flared under Miyako’s purple lipstick.

 

Part one of their plan, her half succeeded.

 

Miyako continued her conversation, chin resting on the top of Izumi’s.

 

Her glasses recorded all of her conversations. It sounded like some cheesy spy movie, but at least Miyako actually needed hers. When she felt a hand against her shoulder she took the signal for what it was.

 

“I'm going to the restroom, Kou chan I know you're shy... but endure it awhile longer.”

 

“Don't be gone long, Nee chan.” Izumi warned her.

 

 _“Time limit, 2 minutes and 30 seconds.”_ Izumi mentally counted along with Koushiro.

 

“You worry too much.” She laughed into the palm of her hand.

 

Then she was all alone, nothing but a wink from Miyako to encourage her.

 

“Do you know why you're here with your big sister tonight?” An older man asked, toupee crooked.

 

“She said it was an important evening.” Izumi didn't want to play games.

 

“It's an important conference.” Izumi quirked a thin brow.

 

“In a ballroom?”

 

“Well who would suspect it?” A woman who couldn't be younger than her late 70s asked her. Her face was heavily lined with age and tacky cosmetics. Her eyebrows shaved off to be penciled in too high.

 

“Isn't it dangerous?” Izumi shot back. “To be telling a child. If you're so secretive then why offer information up?”

 

“Because we have connections your big sister doesn't. We know we're safe.” Izumi bared her teeth at them in a feral grin.

 

“Is that so?” All conversations fell to a halt.

 

The tell-tale sound of heels clicking against the floor took hold of Izumi’s attention. Miyako returned shortly with what looked like a glass of champagne. Miyako never drank on the job and when she proceeded closer, Izumi’s suspicions were confirmed. Sparkling cider.

 

“How about after this final drink, w-we head out, huh?” Miyako poked Izumi’s cheek, speech a practiced slur.

 

“Welcome back,” the group chorused, eyes still locked onto Izumi. Who was she to care if adults were scared of her? Not her problem. She offered Miyako a charming smile.

 

“Nee chan I have a project for school tomorrow, will you help me?” Miyako grinned.

 

“Sure thing!”

 

“The party will be over in approximately fifteen minutes. Won’t you wait to leave like everyone else?”

 

“It’s a school project and my little brother comes first.” Miyako shook her head, downing her sparkling cider in one go.

 

“It’s a shame.” The old lady shook her head. Miyako embraced her with a laugh.

 

“I would love to hear more about your theory of the future of A.I. evolution next time.”

 

“I’d be all too happy to share.” her face softened.

 

“Just ask for me next time. It’s good to see young bright minds.” Miyako patted a hand against her hip.

 

“Will do!” Izumi ignored the small bead stuck to the old woman’s hip. Miyako was truly ridiculous. But she had crafted it herself, so she couldn’t blame her for using it proudly.

Miyako held out a delicate elbow like she hadn’t used her arms to tear apart computer parts for the longest time. At least she wore long gloves to cover up her calluses and scars.

 

The plan succeeded without a hitch.

 

Inside the car Miyako chucked off her heels and unpinned her hair. It tumbled past her shoulders.

 

“You did good tonight! Now let’s go over what we did. We shouldn’t have missed anything. Senpai is the car secure?”

 

_“Affirmative.”_

 

“Block all radio waves please. This will be a conversation between a stunning older sister and her little brother.” Izumi groaned, face in her hands. Koushiro obliged.

 

“Update me when you return.”

 

“Now, Izumi what did you do when left the ballroom.”

 

“Seems kind of stupid for them to have a ballroom if they’re a business company… I knew my outfit wouldn’t let me show up on film. I confidently ran since all the guards were near the dance and refreshment area.”

 

“Why were you confident?”

 

“Because I made it myself.” She had perfected Miyako’s prototype as a test months ago.

 

“Good. Next?”

 

“Fairimon and I copied data and falsified information. We also turned off all alarms.”

 

“Good. There’s a reason we have so much faith in you.” Miyako smiled and patted her shoulder.

 

She knocked on the separating glass of the car, signaling they could go. The car sped off, Miyako’s laughter echoing through the car.

 

“It’s easy, doing this, right? I don’t know why you complained.” Izumi shrugged, forehead sweaty from the wig. She couldn’t exactly take it off.

 

Miyako helped her loosen her pink tie.

 

“Did your “scrambler” go smoothly?” Izumi asked, voice conversational. Miyako hummed in response.

 

“These gloves are different than usual, slippier, but it went fine.”

 

“Why do we have such old agents in the organization?”

 

“Mmm, you shouldn’t speak of a founder like that!” Miyako laughed at Izumi’s insolence.

 

“But it’s okay I know you’re not a fan of adults.” Izumi shrugged as if she didn’t care either way. She didn’t join this organization to be at the beck and call of adults. She was more mature than any of them in her opinion.

 

“She’s nice enough, she’s working on a big project. It’s her duty to blend in with the other side.”

 

“How are you sure she’s not a triple agent?” Miyako cupped her face and spoke like she was listing off the most basic things about the known universe.

 

“She wouldn’t betray us, not after what happened to her son.”

 

Izumi fiddled with her digivice as Miyako pulled out her own.

 

“Hey, Hawkmon, did it go off yet?” Miyako’s partner’s choppy voice responded automatically.

 

“Yes, Miyako. All went according to plan.” Izumi thumbed over the screen. Her partner dormant. Nothing but a symbol filled the screen.

 

“Bingo!” Miyako cheered.

 

Neither girl noticed the lone hat laid out on the sidewalk, the dead tv screens in the store window.

 

\-------------------------

 

_“Yes, Mom. I’ll be home really soon. Don’t worry. I love you.” the phone hung up with a soft click. She sighed and tucked her hands into her pockets, hat low over her eyes._

 

_There’d been a mass power outage, only phones seemed to be working. Even the train she usually took home was shut down for safety reasons._

 

_At least she had gotten out of work early. She’d only gotten the job by pure luck. Her Mother knew the kind old woman that worked there. She was climbing up in age and needed the help around her shop. Didn’t mean her back didn’t ache from all the mopping she had done._

 

_Maybe she could bring the old lady something? She certainly deserved it. Her foot connected with something hard._

 

_“Ow, what’s this?” She knelt down to inspect it. For a second it looked like something straight out of a sci-fi flick. When she blinked it appeared to be a normal phone. She picked up the black flip phone and turned it around in her hands. A sticker with purple wings was the only remarkable feature it held._

 

_She flipped it open. Someone was probably looking for this. Maybe she could drop it off at the police station tomorrow morning?_

 

_A gust of wind blew her hat off._

 

_Tomorrow definitely, she wasn’t going to stay out any longer than needed._

  
_She should have just set it back down and left._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First person to guess who guesses who D-2 05 is get's a chapter dedicated to them LMAO.

**Author's Note:**

> For a faithful reader I don't know how I obtained. Thank you.


End file.
